Dear Help
by berryandlisa
Summary: Harry is back at the Dursleys for another summer, even after witnessing Lord Voldemort's return. He is abused by his uncle again, just like every summer before. This IS a diary. This will have A LOT of abuse and neglect. If you don't like that sort of thing, don't read this.
1. The Calm

_A/N: I do not own Harry Potter!_

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**Summer 1995, Day 1:**

**Dear Help,**

I woke up bright and early this morning. I just got home to the Dursley's from Hogwarts Express. I know I'm in for a world of hell just like every other summer.

By 7:15, I was downstairs making breakfast for "little Dudley-kins."

I felt my eyes droop as I stood over the bacon making sure it didn't burn. I'd had another nightmare about what happened at the graveyard just a few weeks ago. My scar has been the cause of relentless headaches ever since Lord Voldemort returned.

As my mind wandered I wondered if anyone would come and rescue me from living here. I highly doubted it. In fact, I knew they wouldn't because of the stupid protection that this house gives me.

No, they say. The-Boy-Who-Lived is strong, they say. He defeated Lord Voldemort, they say. His family wouldn't _dare_ lay a finger on him, they say.

But they would. My only blood relatives would dare hit me, and punch me, and hurt me until I begged for mercy or death. Despite what the wizarding world may think, I am not strong. I am weak and helpless.

I heard a loud stomping coming from the stairs and was just putting breakfast on the table when Dudley and Uncle Vernon walked in. My uncle had his eyes narrowed into slits that reminded me eerily of Voldemort. His face was purple when he growled, "That was very close timing, boy."

I looked down at the floor and whispered quietly, "I'll be better tommorrow." I _have_ to be better tomorrow. If I'm not, that'll be just one more day my uncle has an excuse to punish me. I cannot allow that to happen.

He thrusted a piece of paper at me and said, "Damn, right you'll be better tommorrow. Now, you listen here, boy. You have all of these chores done by the end of the day, or you'll be in a world of pain." He glared at me and I nodded. There was nothing else I could do besides agree, even though there was no way I'd have all of it done by the time he got home. He grunted and sat down to eat his breakfast. I watched in solemn silence by the sink, my hands working on washing the dishes on their own.

So much for trying to save myself a couple days of pain.

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I worked the first half of the day outside when the heat of the day was manageable, and went inside for the second part of the day when it was much hotter.

Sure enough, I'd finished only three quarters of the list when I see Uncle Vernon's car pull into the driveway. He got out of the car and walked in the door, and immediately laid his eyes on me scrubbing the floor. Clearly he did not want to see the freak first thing when he got home from work. I put my head down so as not to provoke him by making eye contact. "Get up!" was the first thing he said to me. I stood up.

He pushed me up the stairs to my room and locked me in while he greeted the rest of the family. I knew better than to hope he'd forget about me. He's never failed to give me my daily beating to this day. I doubted he'd want to break the pattern he takes so much pride in.

I sat on my bed and counted the dreadful seconds until Uncle Vernon came in and gives me a whooping.

My heart raced when I heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs. My stomach twisted into a knot as Uncle Vernon's huge figure appeared in my doorway with a belt in his hand. He lumbered over and started slapping every inch of me he can reach with the belt. He struck me mercilessly over and over with the belt until he was panting and finally straightened up and left without a word. He didn't say anything throughout the entire ordeal which somehow seemed worse than if he had said something.

I lay where he left me and replay what happened in my mind over for a while. Was I laying there 30 minutes? An hour?

I don't know, but here I am now, writing to you. I may not know who you are, but I hope that when you read this you'll try to save me. But then again, who will read this? How will you get this? Will I be dead by the time you read this? I can really only hope.

If I am dead, I hope that I'll be remembered for something that I actually did. Like try. I don't know why Voldemort disappeared after he tried to kill me. I don't know how I did it if I did anything. All I know is that he's back.

But even if I am dead right now, while you read this, I hope I'm known for how hard I tried to survive. How I tried to overcome all the obstacles gave thrust in front of me.

It's almost 9 o'clock. I really should get some sleep. So, good night, I guess.

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**Please review! Let me know what you want more of, what you want less of, if you want me to include what's going on other places as well, etc.**

**This also has no ending in sight and will just be a diary. I will give a day-by-day account of Harry's summer to you guys and hope for the best I guess. :3**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Before the Storm

_A/N: I do not own Harry Potter!_

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**Summer 1995, Day 2:**

**Dear Help,**

I woke up 15 minutes earlier than I did yesterday, so I could have breakfast ready sooner. I knew it didn't really matter since I'd be getting punished for something today- whether it was my existence or my lack of a good attitude, I didn't know, but it would happen.

I felt sore from the flogging the night before and winced as I changed my clothes. By the time I got to the stairs, I was almost used to the pain, but it returned when my foot slipped on the last step. I froze to listen if anybody heard, but it appeared I was safe for the time being.

I started making waffles and hash browns for the family. I considered for a moment to try and take something to eat, but knew I would only be caught and assaulted more severely. I sighed. It'd barely been 24 hours, and I was already wishing for food. I'm so pathetic.

The more I allowed my thoughts to wander, the worse they got. They kept going in a circle. Voldemort, Cedric, Ron and Hermione, Sirius and back to Voldemort.

I wondered if Hermione was with the Weasley's. Probably. And they probably haven't even considered inviting me. I'm a burden to them. One extra mouth to feed. Not to mention all the trouble that comes along with me at any given place. Even at the Dursley's I'm always causing trouble.

I wished my parents were still alive...

Just as I was thinking that, I heard footsteps from the stairs and was pleased that I already had food on the table and was starting the dishes. I knew better than to keep my hopes up though. I saw Dudley first with Aunt Petunia on his tail, fussing over something on a fancy suit he was wearing. Then Uncle Vernon trudged in and looked at me suspiciously, as if he thought I did magic to get the food done quicker. I gave him an innocent look, hoping he'd spare me for now. He grumbled and sat down to eat without a word. Relief swept over me like a tidal wave.

After they finished eating breakfast, I started doing the dishes they used to eat with and heard them all start to leave. "BOY!" I turned off the sink and shuffled into the hall by the door and waited for my instructions. Uncle Vernon faced me and said, "Today is Dudley's cousin Gregory's birthday. We will be gone all day and you had better have the place spotless for guests when we return."

I nodded and said quietly, "Yes, sir," before retreating to the kitchen to start on everything. _If there are guests coming tonight, most likely they will be Vernon's family and will use me as a toy_, I thought, _no matter what I do, I will not get off any better or worse by having the place clean._

But I tried my hardest anyway. Mostly because I've learned to not see cleaning as a chore, but rather something that needs to be done. I actually enjoy cleaning now, because it gets my mind off of the wizarding world. Whenever I clean, I focus all my energy into the task at hand so as to prevent negligence and thoughts. When I clean, I never allow myself to think. I only allow myself to do the job. And I do it.

I started by dusting everything down. I dusted every surface in the house. I swept and mopped all the hard floors and vacuumed the carpets. I picked up things laying around the kitchen, living room and dining room. I tidied up Dudley's room to the best of my ability. I went outside and trimmed the hedges and weeded the garden. I watered the plants and grass. I mowed the lawn. I did as much as I could and even managed a water break and drank from the hose.

However, sure enough, my uncle got home, and I was not finished with straightening the garden yet. His family hopped out of the car next to his and looked disgustedly at me. I felt insecure in their gaze, mostly because I wanted to feel accepted by people. And they never accepted me.

I looked away as Vernon began to walk in my direction. I'm dragged into the living room and threw me on the floor. He kicked me around and mumbled, "Get up, you lazy boy." I struggled to my feet just to be shoved back to the ground by Aunt Marge. I groaned from the pain and heard gasps all around me. Were they really that surprised that she pushed me?

I found out no when Aunt Marge turned purple in her face and hit me repeatedly with a belt Vernon had just brought in. "How _dare_ you groan about having to do chores boy! How dare you groan about being punished properly! You have been given much grace by Vernon and Petunia. They have allowed a thing like you stay in their home! And you _complain_ about having to do a little bit of work to stay?" She was yelling by the end of her speech and slapped me harder as she went on. When she finally stopped she was purple everywhere and I was curled in a ball at her feet sobbing silently.

The family sat down in chairs in the living room while Uncle Vernon dragged me up to my room and tossed me on the floor. Without a word he locked me in.

And now, here I am.

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**Please review! Let me know what you want more of, what you want less of, what you think of my writing, if you want me to include what's going on elsewhere at the moment, etc.**

**Other than that, thank you for reading!**


	3. Coffee

_A/N: I do not own Harry Potter!_

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**Summer 1995, Day 3:**

That night I dreamed of Sirius and Lupin. They were talking about checking in on me but agreed to just send a letter. Out of no where the scene shifts and I'm standing in a graveyard, Cedric dead at my side. I wake up moments later screaming. As soon as I'm fully conscious I shut my mouth. I felt my heart beat faster in my chest. The door opens revealing a tired and angry Vernon and I whimper.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?" he hissed, "Trying to wake the entire neighborhood with your racket?! I'll show you!" He throws me on the floor, then proceeds to hit me and beat me for several torturing minutes. I sob quietly as he punches and kicks me repeatedly. With one final kick to the gut, he leaves. I lay for several minutes gasping for breath, knowing at least one rib is broken.

When I finally have the courage to move and check my alarm clock I find that it is 5:30 in the morning. I get up to shower and start breakfast, knowing if I go back to sleep, I'll never be back up in time.

I go to the bathroom and when I'm in the shower I check over my injuries. I can't heal any of them, obviously, I don't have my wand, but I do make sure none are too severe. They look okay, mainly bruises and small cuts besides the welts from the belt, so I shrug them off and try to ignore the pain as I turn off the hot water and go back to the small bedroom.

I am sliding a shirt over my hurting chest when I hear a rapping noise. I look quickly at the door, which is closed, then my alarm clock, which says 6:01, and then realize the noise is coming from the window. I look out and see a light gray owl trying to get in. Uncle Vernon had allowed me to send and receive owls, but he monitored in vigilantly. I open the window and take the letter attached to it's leg. I open it and am not surprised to see it's from Sirius.

_Dear Harry,_

_Just checking to see how you're doing. Are those Muggles treating you right? How's your schoolwork going? You'd better have it done when you see Hermione or she'll be in a state. Has your scar been hurting at all?_

_I can't tell you where I am, but I can tell you I'm safe. I've been keeping a low profile only allowing people to see me as Padfoot._

_Lupin says, "hi." I think he's planning on coming to check in on you soon, so make sure to tell your relatives so they don't panic and call their foe-leash _(police)_. _

_Write back soon. Buckbeak wants to know how you're doing too._

_Snuffles_

I read over it a few times, soaking in and memorizing his words before it's thrown in the fire by Vernon and I have to write back telling a bunch of lies.

I put bring the letter down with me when I go to make breakfast; I'd be in more trouble if I didn't tell my uncle about the letter and found out later. I started making pancakes, bacon, and a fruit salad for the entire family when I get to the kitchen. To my surprise, someone is already awake.

Aunt Marge called, rather politely for her, from the living room, "Bring me coffee, boy." I jerked my head up to find the source of the sound. She was sitting on the couch, her feet on the coffee table, watching the morning news. She looked almost like a bull-pig hybrid itching to charge at something.

I immediately start coffeemaker and once it has enough pour some into a mug. "Would you like milk or sugar?" I ask softly. I tried to keep my voice down in case she decided to charge _me._

For a moment, she didn't answer and I held my breath. "Both," she calls loudly and rudely. I barely managed to contain a glare of disgust.

I added milk and sugar and took it over to her. I avoided her gaze as she snatched it from my hand. I started walking back into the kitchen when I heard her choking on the tea. I whipped around and saw her face screwed up in repulsion. "WHAT DID YOU PUT IN MY COFFEE, BOY?!" she spat, "WERE YOU TRYING TO POISON ME?"

I shook my head anxiously, but she was already over me and hitting me where ever she could. "YOU LITTLE RASCAL! YOU SHOULD BE PUT DOWN! THINGS LIKE YOU SHOULDN'T BE ALLOWED A NICE HOME OR AN EDUCATION!" she shrieked. She was kicking and clawing and punching me like a maniac. I saw black dots appear in my vision when it suddenly stopped. I rolled over to see Uncle Vernon pulling Aunt Marge back. Her face was red and her eyes were bulging out of their sockets. She was spitting and seething trying to get her hands on me. Uncle Vernon yelled something I couldn't catch.

I closed my eyes and waited for more blows to come but they didn't. Uncle Vernon pulled me back onto my feet and grumbled, "go finish breakfast." I fled clumsily to the kitchen and when I glanced up, I saw Aunt Petunia fanning off Aunt Marge, shooting me dirty looks every now and again. I quickly finished the bacon and pancakes and started setting the table. I tried to prevent the blood dripping off a cut on my head from getting on anything but me.

When I had everything set I croaked, "Breakfast is ready!" Aunt Marge and Aunt Petunia followed by Dudley and Uncle Vernon all came and sat down to eat. Uncle Vernon said grace and they dug in. Meanwhile, I started cleaning up in the kitchen.

I was doing the dishes when I heard Dudley from the dining room, "Why is there blood on my plate?" There was a moment of help breaths, then suddenly the room exploded. Aunt Petunia was scanning Dudley over for something, as if she thought he would break out in something. Aunt Marge and Uncle Vernon descended upon me in the kitchen where I cowered in a corner. I don't remember anything after feeling my head smash against what I could only assume was the stone counter top.

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When I woke up, I was in my bed and I hurt all over. My hand was hanging limply over the bed and I couldn't move a single muscle. It hurt too much.

So I sat there. I waited for the pain to go away as it always did. The stupid magic in my blood kept me alive through every beating and I was beginning to despise it. I hated the fact that I couldn't just die and be away from all the pain. Why was the wizarding world so dependent on _me_? Why were they so _needy_? _Why me?_

When I finally could move I noticed it was dark outside, which explained the silence around the house. I sat up, grabbed my journal, and began to write before I passed out.

Why, you might be wondering, would I write when I really need to sleep and heal? Because. I want you to know what my life is like so maybe you'll feel the teeniest bit of pity for me. I want you to know that I tried. That I really am innocent despite what the Dursley's say. I work hard. I aim to please everyone. I try my best even when I don't feel like it. I always attempt to suceed even if there's only failure. What more could anyone want from me? What more do _you_ want from me?

This is about as far as I can get for now. I hope you find me soon.

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**So for such a long break! I was having writer's block and was worried that you guys hated this. .**

**Please review! Let me know what you want! Should he be rescued? If so, when?**

**Other than that, thanks for reading!**


	4. Rescued?

_A/N: I do not own Harry Potter!_

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**Summer 1995, Day 4:**

**Dear Help_,_**

When woke up this morning, the first thing I realized was that I wasn't at the Dursley's. No, the bed was much too comfortable for it to be the one at that dreadful house. _Maybe I'm hallucinating,_ I thought to myself.

I groaned when I heard a tapping and mumbled, "I'm up, I'm up." The tapping was getting louder and as I swung my legs around the side of the bed I felt a hand push me back onto the bed. I gasped at the pain I felt in my chest. They must be trying to lull me into a sense of security. I reached at the table beside my bed and felt for my glasses. A different hand pushed them onto my face. I got my first look around the strange room.

I wasn't at the Dursley's. The room was all white and had intricate designs and columns and a high ceiling and I vaguely recognized it. I was in the Hogwarts infirmary! I blinked in surprise. Who came and got me? When my mind was finally able to form words I asked, "What am I doing here?"

"You were very badly injured last night when you fell down the stairs," a voice said. My eyes focused on the speaker. Madame Pomfrey was standing in front of me, her eyes full of concern. "Your relatives asked for us to come and help you."

I knew as soon as she said that that something wasn't right. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia _asking_ for _wizards_ to come into their _home_ and _help me?_ More than likely they were trying to cover something up. "I never fell down the stairs," I said looking her in the eye.

Madame Pomfrey made a noise of pity. I could see the sympathy in her eyes. "I knew this might happen. You hit your head quite hard. You must not remember clearly-"

"I know exactly what happened," I said firmly, "My oh-so loving relatives didn't think my face looked good so they rearranged it against the counter!" Tears were starting to run down my face. Why didn't she believe me?

Madame Pomfrey gasped in surprise. "How can you make such accusations against your relatives? That's a very serious thing, you know, and saying thing like that, even out of anger, is way out of line," she said. I flinched at her harsh tone.

"NO!" I shrieked, "THEY DID THAT! WHY DON'T YOU BELIEVE ME?" I broke down at that point. My body crumpled over and I shook as sobs raked through my whole body.

Dumbledore walked in then but I hardly acknowledged him. He and Madame Pomfrey said something to each other then Madame Pomfrey left. Dumbledore walked to my bedside where I had finally stopped crying and I was looking at Dumbledore suspiciously. "Harry... I'm afraid you have to go back,"Dumbledore stated simply.

I looked at him pleadingly, and said brokenly, "But they hate me. Why can't I go be with Sirius?"

Dumbledore looked at me kindly his eyes sparkling. "You'll be with him before you know it." And without another word turned to leave. I just watched him go with a blank expression. Madame Pomfrey came back a moment later and said, "Why don't you rest up now? You'll be ready to go no later than tomorrow."

I didn't answer.

Madame Pomfrey watched me sadly for a minute then left as well.

I was finally all alone. I broke down crying again. Why couldn't they just believe me? Why _wouldn't_ they believe me? Was it because they thought I was being melodramatic? Oh, yes, the savior of the wizarding world overreacting about going back to his muggle relatives. That was surely it...

My thoughts strayed back to Cedric and how I could have prevented his death. He didn't need to die. If only I hadn't been so stubborn and insisted he take the cup with me. Was this my punishment for letting him die? All this pain? I pondered on that for a while.

I don't remember when or how, but eventually I fell asleep and woke up a couple hours later being prodded at by Madame Pomfrey again. I groaned a little and then sat up. She left without saying anything to me and I started writing.

And here I am now. Writing. Why? So maybe when someone finds this they will help me. I don't know why I didn't show this to Dumbledore, but I just felt like this is too personal for me to _sho__w _someone. I'd much rather someone _find_ it. Anyway, I'm going back to sleep. I'll update you again tomorrow after my first day back at the Dursley's.

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**There you are! Is this too short? I'll probably come back through this later and add, so keep checking! ****Please review! What should happen next? Should he tell Sirius? Ron? Let me know what you think! Reviews are very helpful!**

******Thanks to _scatteredbutterflies _for your wonderful review! Here's your update. :3 **

_******Scatteredbutterflies**_******- I'm glad you like this! And thanks for being my first reviewer. :3 You're welcome for writing this. I'm glad that someone likes this. Let me know if I go over the top on violence and such. I worry. . Also, keep reviewing so I know what's good and what's not. Thanks again!********  
**


	5. Shut Up

_A/N: I do not own Harry Potter!_

_This chapter may be triggering to some. Read at your own discrepancy!_

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**Summer 1995, Day 25**

**Dear Help,**

The one thing I don't understand is why Dumbledore sent me back. Doesn't he find it slightly suspicious that after only 4 days, my relatives are sending me back, claiming I fell down the stairs? It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that something is off. He won't even investigate it! Does my word mean nothing? My life? Do I mean anything to Dumbledore or any of the rest of them? I'm starting to believe that I don't.

As soon as the door to Number 4 Privet Drive was closed after my time in the Hogwarts infirmary, I found myself under the angry glare of Uncle Vernon. I could feel my body start to tremble, betraying me. From the living room I heard Dudley call, "All clear!" Without waiting another instant, Uncle Vernon punched me in side of the head, sending my glasses flying. I fell to the floor and curled up in a defensive ball. He beat me like he'd never done before. All I could think about was the pain. Everywhere hurt. I think Dudley may have come and started hitting me as well. I couldn't be sure. I was starting to lose consciousness when I heard him say, "This time, I'll make sure you don't escape! I've had it with your stupid tricks! You hear me boy? HAD IT!"

I did hear him, however, I didn't even get a chance to cry out a response, because he's already knocked me out.

I woke up one morning 21 days later to find myself completely numb from a beating I couldn't remember. I couldn't feel anything. I opened my eyes and looked at my finger to tried to make it move. As soon as I moved it, my entire body felt like it was on fire.

I opened my mouth to scream, only to discover I couldn't open it at all. I had duct tape holding my mouth shut. I raised my arm to take it off, but one look at my arm set me into panic mode. It was purple from bruises and I think I may have broken it. I couldn't tell the difference with all the pain. I pull off the duct tape slowly, setting my face on fire in the process. Finally, it comes off completely and I drop it on the floor. I was breathing heavily from the effort.

I heard a lock come undone. Then another. Then another. I realized it was coming from my door a moment too late, for Vernon was already there and smacking my face. I felt hot tears roll down my cheeks as he grabbed my face and made me look at him. His cruel eyes had an angry gleam in them.

"We got a letter from that old- _freak_ saying he's coming to get you tomorrow," Vernon growled, "He said he didn't want to hear anything bad about this summer. Well, guess what? He's not gonna hear _anything_ from you." At this he threw my face on the bed. I saw a scissors in his hand as he forces my mouth open. My eyes opened wide in panic and I made a feeble attempt at escape. He pulls me back and wrenches my mouth open once more. He takes the scissors and with one quick cut, my tongue is gone. My mouth fills with blood instantly, but Uncle Vernon was ready. He put a trash can underneath my mouth and forces me to lean over it.

I don't know how long I was laying there, blood gushing out of my mouth, but when it finally stops, Uncle Vernon was gone. I lay back on the bed, and shut my mouth. I feel tears well up in my eyes once more, but no sound escapes my mouth. The tears just fall silently. Eventually, I found the courage to quickly write this. Dumbledore's getting me tomorrow. But I won't have anything to say to him now. Or ever. I'm about to pass out, so I'll have to wait for tomorrow.

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**Sorry about the short chapter! I promise things are going to start picking up. Now I need your opinion. Who should be "Help"? Should it be Sirius? Or Snape? Or Lupin? Or some other character? If you want it to be some other character, be sure to mention who! And don't forget to review!**

**_scatteredbutterflies_ - I'm glad you liked the twist! Sorry for making you wait so long for this update! . This chapter was pretty gorey compared to others, don't you think? xD**


	6. The Tears

_A/N: I do not own Harry Potter!_

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**Summer 1995, Day 26**

**Dear Help,**

When I woke up the next day, there were two big blue eyes staring at me, concerned. "Harry?" I heard a voice say, "Can you get up, my boy?" I blinked several times and reached for my glasses. The man with the big blue eyes handed them to me and I immediately recognized Dumbledore. I nodded in response to his question, and swing my legs over the side of the bed.

My mouth felt oddly empty. That's when I remembered the sickening act from the night before. I doubled over and moaned. Dumbledore put his hand on my back and asked, "What's wrong, lad?" I thought about what I should do. Should I show him my mouth? Or should I do what it was meant to do and keep quiet? I was leaning toward the latter when I looked at the doorway and saw Uncle Vernon standing there nervous, yet threatening. I shook my head and stood up.

As I looked around the room, I saw all my things at the foot of my bed packed nicely and neatly in my trunk along with Hedwig in her cage. Aunt Petunia must have packed everything for me. My wand was even on my nightstand. I walked slowly toward my stuff and see a little corner of a note under one my books. I knew they must have written something to me and decided it might be best to look at it later.

I looked at Dumbledore, a little shyly and saw him smiling broadly at me. "Are you ready to go, Harry?" he asked in a beaming voice. I nodded my head fervently. Dumbledore flicked his wand and my things disappear. "I have just transported your belongings to where you will be spending the rest of the summer with Sirius and the Weasley's," Dumbledore said cheerily and put out his arm. I looked at him strangely and he said, "Well, grab on!"

I did and found myself being spun around and constricted so I couldn't breathe. As soon as it started, however, it stopped and find my feet planted firmly on the ground of an old tile floor and Dumbledore's steady hand on my shoulder to support me. I looked around the spinning room and saw the happy faces of Sirius, all the Weasley's, Hermione, Lupin and some other faces I didn't know. Hermione runs up to me and hugs me tightly. "Oh, Harry! It's so great to see you!" she said. I hugged her back and when she stepped away, I was hugging people and shaking hands with everyone in the room.

Dumbledore's hand remained on my shoulder until Sirius came into view and I ran into his open arms. I felt tears start falling down my face as the heavy reality of never speaking again comes crashing down in that moment. I would never be able to tell Sirius how much he meant to me, how much I loved him and thought of him as family. I would never be able to express myself when I'm sad or-

I felt my air catch in my throat and the tears came heavier as I continued to cling to Sirius. He was murmuring comforting words under his breath and patting my back. I could vaguely hear in the background people shuffling around to leave and Disapparating out of the small kitchen. I didn't make any noises as I cried- the fact my back moved as though it were being shaken with sobs and the tears on my face were the only signs that I was actually crying.

When my tears finally subsided, Sirius led me into what looked like a living room with a fire place and some couches. He sat down with me on one of the big soft sofas and turned to face me. "Harry, what's wrong?" Anxiety was etched on his face as he waited for me to tell him what was wrong. I knew he thought that I didn't want to be there, but, really, the exact opposite was true. I didn't want to be anywhere else. I wanted to tell him it had nothing to do with him but could only stare back brokenly. I urged him with my eyes to realize what was wrong.

But he wasn't even looking at me. He was looking everywhere but me as he waited for me to reject him.

Hermione, who I had completely forgotten was in the room, finally caved from the tension. "Say something, Harry!" she all but yelled. I snapped my gaze to her knowing- no, _hoping_- she would catch on.

We stared at each other for at least another two minutes before she finally realized. She threw her hands to cover her mouth and gasped, tears instantly springing to get eyes. Everyone looked at her in surprise. She didn't take her eyes of me. "Did he really...?" Her question hung in the air and I nodded.

Ron, who had been standing restlessly, spoke up at last. "Did he really what, Hermione?"

Hermione merely shook her head head and said in a voice just above a whisper, "He c-can't talk. He's mute."

"How?" Run asked, immediately skeptical. He narrowed his eyes at me.

Hermione sobbed even harder and spluttered, "It- he- it's g-gone!" She hiccuped. "His u-uncle c-cut it out!"

Everyone then turned to look at me in equal looks of horror. My bottom lip trembled slightly as I reached my chin in a somewhat defiant way and nodded in confirmation.

I turned to look at Sirius who having overcome his initial shock now had a murderous look in his eyes. "I'll kill him!" he growled viciously. He jumped to his feet add though he were going to the Dursley's right then. I stood up and stepped in front of him, palms facing him in a gesture that was meant to calm him down. Dumbledore also placed a hand on Sirius's shoulder and gently pushed him back on the sofa. Sirius put his head in his hands and his shoulders slumped. He looked at me with pity and opened his mouth to say something but only managed to shake his head and sigh in defeat.

I looked around the rest of the room. Hermione was crying into Ron's chest and he kept throwing me glances torn between pity and confusion. Mrs. Weasley's eyes held nothing but pure sympathy, Dumbledore simply looked guilty. I could never have guessed why he would be guilty.

No sooner after I had sunk back onto the couch did I feel an excruciating pain flare across my forehead. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out because I had fallen into a dark abyss.

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**This chapter is a bit longer. I apologize in advance for any errors. I wrote about half of this on my phone. Sirius got the most votes (from me), so Sirius it is! But dint worry. I'll find a way to give Sev a bit of the limelight! Please review and let me know what you think! And thanks to all the great reviews I got! BTW: I'm still looking for more ideas of people to help with Harry's recovery. So keep throwing out ideas!.**

_**Lily Potter-Chan - **_**I will definitely be doing something along the lines of that! I will make sure to show some of the half-blood prince _royally_ pissed of tirade. Get it? Half-blood prince? _Royally_ pissed off?**

_**Bookwormkat1 -**_** McGonagall did have a lot of compassion toward all of her little lions. :3 I will definitely (hopefully) write a fanfic for her and Harry. ;)**

_**ADivergentPotterhead -**_** Yo****u win! Sirius will be the main support in this fanfiction! I am very grateful that someone adores the idea of Harry and Sirius in a platonic kind of way. x3 please keep reviewing and letting me know what you do and don't like!**


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